


Safe to Shore

by BlueTwilight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s07e01 Meet the New Boss, Hallucinations, Leviathan Castiel, M/M, Post-Hell, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTwilight/pseuds/BlueTwilight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An angsty, sastiel-inspired take on the scene from 7x1, "Meet the New Boss," where Sam prays to Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe to Shore

**Author's Note:**

> Written Rosworm's prompt: "Can you write a fic from the song "My Lighthouse" by Rend Collective Experiment? Something where cas is the light in sam’s darkness... or that they are each other’s guiding light and the peace in their troubled lives. maybe a little angst with an uplifting end. i love happy endings and feelings of hope."

_“Be thankful for my mercy. I could have cast you back in the pit.”_

Sam stumbles a little as he weaves his way in-between the rusted cars of the junkyard. He looks down to see what he almost tripped over, only to find that the dirt was made of bones. Human bones… _his_ bones, from all the times Lucifer dissected him and brought him back to life. The cage was full of them, or it was whenever Lucifer wanted it to be. Sam stared at the floor and wrapped his arms around himself. He shivered and counted to five in his head, allowing himself a moment of weakness before squaring his shoulders and looking away from the ground resolutely. He knew it wasn’t real - _it wasn’t_ \- but even so, he couldn’t help picking his feet up a little higher than usual so that he wouldn’t trip over the gore again.

It shouldn’t be such a big deal; after all, he’d been playing hide-and-seek in this salvage yard since he was in diapers. He knew this place like the back of his hand. But the hallucinations (if they even were hallucinations - he wasn’t entirely convinced) seemed worse when he was alone. At least when Dean was by his side he could focus on his brother’s voice, or the annoying way he drummed his fingers on his thigh when he was anxious, or the way Dean’s research notes were always riddled with purposely misspelled words just to piss Sam off. The only upside to being alone was that he didn’t have to hide the fact that he was bat-shit insane. But he wouldn’t have had to hide in front of Cas.

_“I hope, for your sake, this is the last you see me.”_

Cas wouldn’t have thought him crazy, like Dean would if he knew. If Cas were here, he’d put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, maybe even grab his hand if he was lucky. He’d say, _“We’ll figure it out,”_ or, _“I’m here for you.”_ Something almost childlike in its simplicity, but profound nonetheless. And maybe Sam would rest his head on Cas’s shoulder, or on his chest. And maybe they could just sit like that forever, and damn the cage and all its memories straight to Hell, where they belonged. 

But that’s not what’s going to happen. Even ignoring all of the souls of purgatory taking residence in Cas’s body, Sam and Cas just weren’t like that anymore. They never really were like that to begin with, to be honest. All that happened was a chaste kiss the day before Sam threw himself into the pit, and there was never really much time for anything after that. Cas did rescue him from the cage and, as much as he’d botched that job, there must have been something more than pity in that kiss if he was willing to risk his own life like that. But then, as usual, Sam managed to screw everything up. Just after he got his soul back, Sam was confused as to why Cas had been so cold towards him. But with his newly returned memories, he knew now that Cas was only returning the favor. The angel had tried to approach Sam about their relationship when he was soulless, but Sam had completely shot him down. It made him cringe, now that he remembered everything.

_“Once you were my favorite pets before you turned and bit me.”_

Sam couldn’t believe how he could’ve been so cruel to Castiel. Dean was convinced it hadn’t been Sam; that the soulless counterpart was some stranger taken residence in his brother’s body. But Dean grossly oversimplified things like that… Sam supposed it was just how he dealt. And that was fine for him, but Sam knew deep down that the body that had been walking around on Earth for the past year and half _was_ him, at least partially. Being without a soul was no excuse for the things he’d done and said. He’d pushed Cas away, and now the angel was the one who wasn’t acting like himself. Again, Dean had made it very clear that the soul-filled mess of a vessel wasn’t Cas anymore. And again, Sam couldn’t believe that.

_“He’s in there somewhere, Dean, I know it”_

When he felt like he was sufficiently out of sight of Bobby’s house, Sam stopped. He looked down hesitantly, but the bones were gone now. Just gravel and dirt under his shoes, like always. He shifted his weight between his two feet, a nervous tick that hadn’t gone away even after two centuries of Hell. Then, with a deep breath, Sam did what he came out here to do; he prayed.

“Hey Castiel… um, maybe this is pointless, look, I don’t know if any part of you even cares, but, um, I still think you’re one of us. Deep down. I mean, way, way, _way_ off the reservation, but…” Sam paused and sighed. Maybe Dean was right and there really was nothing left of Cas, but he still had to try. “Look, we still have ‘til dawn to stop this... let us help, please.” He waited, breathless, for a response. A gravely voice sounding behind him, a shooting star… hell, even an owl hooting would’ve been better than radio silence. Sam scanned the landscape for much longer than was realistic, but Cas was a no-show. With no sign that anyone had been listening to his prayer, Sam dragged his heavy heart back to the house.

He returned to the disturbing, yet not entirely unexpected sight of Dean staring fixedly at his cartoon porn. On another day he might’ve cracked a joke, but now he was just too tired. His only thought as he sat across from Dean was that at least the hallucinations seemed to have stopped for the moment.

“Sam.” Sam’s breath caught in his throat. He could hardly believe what he saw.

“Cas…” His gaze flicked over to Dean, making sure that his brother was seeing this too. By the look on Dean’s face, this didn’t seem to be some cruel trick of his subconscious mind.

“I heard your call.” Cas collapsed against the wall, his hands leaving bloody smears on the trimming. “I need help.”

Maybe he did care, after all.


End file.
